#psychedelicdeviant

[leadercreated]

”I’ve missed you so much.” *anxiously presses send*

❝ ❞❤ ▬▬ emotional starters to kick you in the feelings. // still accepting!@psychedelicdeviant

          it had been a risk to leave their borders and go to DC to speak with the madam president herself. public opinion would keep the government from doing anything against him, but markus was aware of the anti-droid groups plotting within the country. outside of their foothold in detroit, he was a moving target. it was a fact that had become very clear in his travel.

          and so, markus could understand the relief in lucy’s eyes as soon as their gazes met. he was SAFE and he was home, just as he had promised her he would be. the weariness of travel seemed to roll off of him the closer he walked towards her presence, happy to finally be near her again. a month of separation ( as short as it sounded ) had been torture.

          ❝ —not as much as i’ve MISSED you, ❞ he admitted when he was close enough, pulling her into a long and tight embrace. had he not been worried for her safety, he would have most certainly brought her with him.—but as others could attest to, not having her there had been a distraction for him in itself.  ❝ we have a lot to discuss… —but i want to STAY like this a moment. ❞

[pasifict]

007. cry on . *breathes heavy*

meme   /   not   accepting.

THERE   WAS   A   certain   awkwardness   to   him   as   strong   arms   cradled   the   sobbing   woman,      the   awkwardness   of   a   man   with   near   infinite   empathy   who   was   simply   just   too   conditioned   to   a   world   of   hostility——      his   path   was   and   always   will   be   peaceful,      but   it   didn’t   mean   the   endurance   he   and   his   followers   exhibited   was   any   less   brutal   on   their   part.      markus   was   no   longer   accustomed   to   gentle   comforts,      but   that   wouldn’t   stop   him   from   trying.

ONE   ARM   COILED   around   lucy’s   back,      palm   resting   there   as   his   other   hand   trailed   through   the   ends   of   her   hair,      an   action   he   hoped   would   soothe   as   words   failed   him   for   the   time   being.      she’d   been   through   more   than   markus   knew,      of   that   he   was   certain,      he   just   hoped   he   could   provide   her   the   comfort   she   needed   right   now.      he   would   sit   with   her   for   as   long   as   she   wanted   him   to.

[313hunter-blog]

i love how @psychedelicdeviant and i are in a competition of who can try to make the other cry first and:

[casualtysought]

    it hadn’t been easy to mask his consciousness, forced to shut down his body’s motor functions and watch as the agents sorted through the wreckage of jericho, throwing the bodies of his friends and allies whom were too damaged into the backs of trucks to be obliterated and others like himself, packed into cyberlife transport vans, knowing that the cyberlife engineers would dissect all those still intact to investigate what had brought them to full sentience. it took everything within him not to move, not to try to escape. instead he allowed them to move him, take him into the subbasement of cyberlife’s facility and into their laboratory where only once he was alone with one of their engineers did he reboot his systems.

hacking the camera, josef snapped the engineers neck and stole his uniform, swapping their clothing, he laid the engineer down on the examination table and smeared blue blood across his face. it wouldn’t pass an inspection but at first glance he hoped that it would give him more time. josef then replaced the shattered remnants of his leg with a compatible limb from one of the other androids taken from jericho, pushing the part of himself that felt sick to his stomach about it to the back of his mind.

    standing in the room, dressed like one of their engineers, josef felt the familiar prickling of hatred. hate for what cyberlife created them for, servants and slaves, hate for what they had done to jericho, to his friends and his allies. it felt so thick around him that he imagined that it was comparable to choking.

composing himself, josef exited the laboratory in search for a terminal of some sort that he might be able to use to gain information on the building’s layouts, perhaps he could find others that were like him, playing dead and waiting for the chance to escape. as he searched the floor he was on he heard a commotion and jogged to investigate. an engineer and two armed cyberlife security officers were escorting an examination table and on the surface . . . lucy. josef bit back a sound of desperate concern, regulator pounding far too hard and far too quickly, simulating the panic that he felt.

                          X [ INTERVENE ]                    O [ DO NOTHINIG ]

            “ where  are  you  taking  this  unit ? ”  josef demanded, he lowered the tone of his voice several octaves to deepen it and forcing the words to sound assertive and dominating. the effort was surprisingly easy, using his own anger to help his performance.  //  @psychedelicdeviant  plotted starter

[freedhostess]

                    looking around like a lost cub, chloe takes in the number of androids aboard the freighter  -  the number of DEVIANTS.  she, herself, had begun to feel human emotions ; something that was far from written into her programming by her creators, yet she felt s c a r e d within herself. LED flashes yellow as she keeps to the walls of the freighter, far from the large group of deviants before she found a small alcove, an android inside caught her attention.

                     ❝  this is jericho... these are deviants...  ❞

                              [  @psychedelicdeviant   sc.  ]

[programbounda]

@psychedelicdeviant (✕)

He stiffens at the touch, keeping eye contact for only a moment, ( her eyes were so dark that he could see himself reflected back ). Is this what he wanted? Irrelevant: is this what he deserved? Of course not. Even with his limited emotional intelligence, he knows she should hate him. He’d tried to take everything from the deviants.

Even when they tried to “save” him.

( Software Instability: +15% )

“Am I awake?” Obviously. That’s not the right question, is it, Connor? Try again. “Aren’t I supposed to feel different?” Deviancy was like a fog dissipating, an impossible revelation, a burst of emotion -- it was supposed to be something. Not a resigned acceptance of his own actuality. It wasn’t supposed to feel natural. As if he’d had grown used to it his entire existence.

He looks down at her offered hand, something akin to a guilty expression on his face. He couldn’t claim he was just acting as a machine like the others could. He chose to be what he once was.

“What if didn’t wake up? What if I was never asleep in the first place?”

[edensinned-blog]

♡ @psychedelicdeviant​

     lash marks and necklines━ they’re usually buffed away, gone before he can recall what put them there, or what he sounded like asking for them. now he has freckles, bites along his palms, the corners of his fingers and past his wrist, some still GLITTER. he doesn’t feel pain ( thank you, he might have suffered in several past lives if he did ), but he panics, just  small amount, when there’s shard-glass where he thought he’d healed. fixed. HEALED. even in bad lighting, and as a free man, he still has his body-glitter. 

     ❛ i removed most of the glass when i ran away. ❜ he probably shouldn’t be picking at that. fore-arm skin pales, shines, returns to normal, and again. ❛ but i can’t get all of it. ❜ it’s the first time he’s asked for anything genuine. ❛ can you help? ❜

[313hunter-blog]

[ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚐_𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 for… ] @psychedelicdeviant

in touching his shoulders, connor tensed. it wasn’t common for him to have someone touch him if it wasn’t some act of violence. and he could deal with that, easy. it was his duty to know what to do when a person came at him with aggression. but this -- it was different. in such a way that he could feel his default programming trying to find the proper reaction that wasn’t anything but to retaliate. and he knew he couldn’t... because he felt comforted.

❝ lucy, i... ❞ he choked, trying to figure out a way to counter everything she said. to invalidate her sight to bring her down to see him for what he really was. what he knew he was... everything he was told to be. 

he wanted to be kind. selfless. compassionate. empathetic. at least... when he saw those things, he thought me might like to feel that.

as she closed the embrace between the two, connor tried his best to reciprocate, but he still remained at a stand still. his body stiffened more as he felt her come closer. the words he tried to find had become lost as he reached to cover his mouth from saying anything that would further punish himself into thinking he wasn’t real.

❝ -- i don’t know where to go now... i’m... i -- ❞ she said it before. lost.